


Unspoken

by Kalloway



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 12:18:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18343544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalloway/pseuds/Kalloway
Summary: With Xander staring down the full weight of leading Nohr, it is not just Laslow's job to serve.It is his pleasure.





	Unspoken

**Author's Note:**

> For Spring Fest- "Power Imbalance – There's more than one way for a retainer to serve his prince."
> 
> Though... it ended up just a little different...

Laslow paused after handing the book he'd been sent to fetch over to Lord Xander. This was it, he supposed- his last day serving the Crown Prince of Nohr. 

By the time the sun set on the next day, he'd be in service to the king. Gone would be that already-thorny crown that Laslow did his best to lighten the weight of. And in its place would sit the full weight of the country and all within. 

The gulf between them would grow deeper and wider, Laslow supposed. Everything that had happened between them during the war would need to be pushed aside and... 

"Laslow, you're staring." 

"Merely lost in thought, milord," Laslow said quickly and with a little headshake, he turned to go. "Busy days..." 

"Stay," Xander said quickly. "Unless you have pressing need to be elsewhere." 

"You are always my priority," Laslow replied with his best cheeky grin. He hesitated, though-- If Lord Xander did have work to get done, and he very likely did... But whatever Lord Xander wanted or needed... 

"Laslow..." Xander sighed as he got to his feet. "If you would..." 

Laslow swallowed hard. Those words had become shorthand for everything they couldn't say to each other but that they understood without words. 

"Yes, of course," Laslow replied. He couldn't very well tell Lord Xander that there was nothing he wanted more, but he would do what he could; what he was allowed by rules both spoken and implied. 

He would do it all with absolute joy. 

He was sure that Lord Xander felt the same. 

But neither one of them could say anything... 

There was but a short walk from Lord Xander's study to his bedchamber; more steps than Laslow wanted to count and besides, he nearly danced them. But he didn't say a word; not until Xander had reached to pull off that damned thorny crown and set it to rest on his nightstand. 

It didn't change much-- Xander was very much still his lord, but it changed enough. 

"I'm unsure whether tomorrow is going to be endless or a blur," Xander said as he reached to undo the buttons on his vest. 

"Either way, I'll be at your side," Laslow noted as he stepped closer and reached to put his hands over Xander's. "Always."

Carefully, he twined his fingers through Xander's, deftly undoing the buttons and parting the vest to get to the next set of buttons on the shirt beneath. 

"Laslow..."

"Let me do this," Laslow replied. He wanted out of his own clothing already, but that could wait for a moment longer. And for another moment, as Xander stroked a hand down Laslow's face, fingertips against his cheek before cupping his chin and tilting his head up for a soft kiss. 

It wasn't enough. The buttons were momentarily forgotten as Laslow reached to keep Xander close, one hand on his shoulder, the other winding up into blond waves. Xander's hands settled low on Laslow's back, warm, as that one soft kiss turned into another and to something deeper. Laslow didn't hesitate to part his lips and let his tongue find Xander's. He ached for it, not wanting to stop even though he knew this was just the beginning. 

He stared, again, when Xander pulled away to undo his own buttons and reveal the battle-scarred muscle that Laslow knew well. Undressing each other would take longer and gods, years of costume changes had taught Laslow how to get out of his clothing quickly if not entirely elegantly. 

Though once Laslow was out of his clothing, he knew other rules were now in effect. Well, guidelines. What kept them able to do this, and to feel the way they did for each other without... having any of the hard conversations. Laslow knew they'd come, eventually. But this was not the time to think about them. Not as he slid onto Xander's bed to wait to see what Xander was going to do. 

Xander set his shirt and vest aside, somewhat folded. Boots came off as well, but that was it. Laslow fought the urge to grab for a blanket to cover himself when Xander looked his way. Oh, the first few times he'd tried to absolutely bury himself in them. But that was a rule now-- Laslow would obey; he wanted to, but he also knew how badly he was blushing as Xander appraised him. He grabbed at the blankets beneath him, tight in each fist as Xander joined him on the bed. 

"Do you not trust me, Laslow?" Xander questioned as he leaned over Laslow, not bothering to wait for an answer. Instead there was another kiss, even longer and deeper... Laslow kept his hands clutching the blankets. 

"I trust you," Laslow managed once Xander sat back. "Always. And whatever you'll have me do..." 

"Relax, Laslow," Xander interrupted, one hand on Laslow's chest. "Let me..." 

Laslow nodded and fought the desire to reach for Xander. He wanted to tangle his hands in Xander's hair, touch that scarred muscle, and then reach lower... But that was not what Xander needed. It had not entirely made sense to Laslow, at first, that Xander seemed so intent on his partner's pleasure and not his own, but once it had clicked, well, Laslow understood. Xander was like that with almost everything, after all, except he generally tried not to be noticed doing little things to make other people smile. 

And this was the culmination-- Xander leaned to kiss Laslow's neck, beginning a slow journey down across Laslow's shoulder and chest. A hand brushed against one of Laslow's nipples and he shivered and held in most of a soft moan. Xander took the other one in his mouth, flicking his hot tongue against it and that was enough for a sharp gasp. At least Xander wasn't watching him harden; Laslow was grateful for that. It was still difficult for him to handle, even though it was Xander and he relished getting to see his lord in the same state. 

Xander must have known though. He shifted just a bit, abandoning the nipple he'd just gently squeezed one last time, and reached to run the backs of his knuckles over Laslow's growing erection. 

"Ah!" Laslow bit at his lower lip. Xander was still sucking on his other nipple and he could already feel the beginnings of tears forming at the corners of his eyes. But he did not let go of the blankets. Instead he grabbed at them tighter as Xander moved to kiss downward, over Laslow's own muscled stomach and lower, carefully avoiding his erection until he could adjust himself to properly lean and take just the already-wet tip in his mouth. 

Laslow moaned as Xander licked him clean and then began sucking at him, taking more of his erection in as he finished hardening between Xander's lips. Even if Laslow couldn't touch him, he certainly could watch. And seeing his beloved lord dipping down to take him almost to the base was one of the most amazing things that Laslow could ever imagine seeing. Xander's mouth was hot, his tongue constantly finding new spots that each somehow felt more amazing than the last, and gods, Xander took him deep before flicking his gaze up to meet Laslow's, blood red eyes making damned sure that Laslow was watching. 

There was no way that Laslow would ever look away. 

Though once Xander drew back, he drew all the way back and eased off the bed to grab the bottle of teaseed oil he kept in a lower drawer of the same nightstand that currently held his crown. Laslow thought it fitting, but he dared not say so. Not now, when Xander had the bottle in hand, opening it carefully as he returned to the bed. 

Words caught in Laslow's throat. He wanted to ask for things, but he knew he'd receive them anyway. Instead he just watched as Xander dipped a finger into the oil before recapping it with the same care as it had been opened with. 

For this, Laslow closed his eyes. His hands still held the blankets tight, tighter as that slick finger traced down between his legs. It was not enough oil to press into him just yet, but enough to tease the muscle there and then back up over his scrotum, though that was Xander's whole hand cupping, stroking, and no, Laslow did not miss a soft, near-reverent kiss. 

Then he felt more oil, after a pause, and that finger tracing around his opening again and, finally, when Laslow was nearly sure he was going to do something to break a rule, inside. He could feel his erection dripping hot and sticky on his stomach, and it was almost a distraction, at least until Xander pressed in further, the sensation of fullness slowly winning. 

Laslow moaned when Xander caught the right spot in him, the second time he was unable to refrain from pressing back a bit. But this needed to be at Xander's pace; Laslow understood that even if it was agonizing. They weren't always like this, after all. This was just... 

Thankfully Xander pulled back, and Laslow glanced to see Xander dipping another finger into the oil. This was better, Laslow thought as both fingers pushed into him. The stretching and stroking was wondrous and while he ached to reach and touch himself, Laslow didn't dare. His hands stayed on the bed, his eyes fluttered closed, and he simply felt everything daring him closer to the edge. 

This time when Xander pulled back, Laslow snapped his eyes open. Finally, Xander deemed to snag a pocket-cloth from his slacks as he set the oil aside-- beside his crown, which Laslow also found fitting-- and finally, Xander unbuttoned those slacks and pulled them and his smallclothes down, revealing himself to be as ready as Laslow was. Xander was impressive; hard and with a visible bead of pre-come at the tip. Laslow longed to touch, to take him in his mouth, to do everything he wanted, but this wasn't the time for that. 

Clothing set aside, Xander dipped his fingers into the oil one last time and ran his hand over himself, coating his cock until the entire thing was glistening and slick. Then he wiped his fingers clean, discarding the cloth somewhere on the blankets as he climbed back onto the bed. 

"Laslow?" 

"Yes," Laslow managed. "Please." 

He parted his legs farther than they had been, resisting the desire to hold them up and apart. Xander would do that, if he wanted, if he thought it would be best. Laslow trusted him, and as Xander positioned himself and then thrust, Laslow wasn't sure any of his thoughts made sense anyway. 

Xander barely paused to let either of them adjust but Laslow didn't care. It felt too good as Xander pulled back and thrust again, shifting them both just a bit until he could move easily, and then as he found a rhythm, he reached to stroke Laslow as well using Laslow's own pre-come and-- Laslow gasped when he felt the oil-covered pocket-cloth slide against him as well. This was new and it was good and the sight was intoxicating. He could see Xander sliding in and out of him, filling him, and Xander's hand on him, oil-darkened cloth helping ease each stroke. Xander's expression was one of utmost concentration, but not quite the same as what Laslow was used to seeing. The creases weren't there, the weight gone-- 

Laslow tried to fight the building pressure in his own body. Xander had told him to come, though, whenever he needed to come. Xander liked it, Laslow knew. And this was for Xander's benefit as much as his own. 

"Are you close, Laslow?" Xander asked a moment later, as if he knew. 

"Yes," Laslow managed. Too close. Xander moved a bit faster, a bit harder, and that was it. Pleasure whipped through him and he grasped tighter at the blankets, toes curling as he came hard, his come hot on his stomach as Xander kept stroking him. He could feel the burn of tears, too, though he suspected he'd been crying for some time. That, Laslow couldn't help. It always happened, no matter if they were like this or otherwise. 

And from there, Xander moved faster, thrusting harder and deeper. Laslow was pulled further into pleasure and he could hear his voice mixing with Xander's as Xander came a few moments later. 

Xander did not pull away immediately, instead watching Laslow and then leaning to kiss away Laslow's tears. This was the beginning of the end, Laslow knew. Xander would pull back, clean them both up, and then-- 

Yes, it went just like that, another pocket-cloth fetched to wipe away what they'd done. Laslow let go of the blankets once Xander had wiped him clean. He wasn't sure he could actually move yet, but... 

The gulf would soon be back between them, words unspoken and words not ready to be spoken... 

Xander hesitated for a moment before retrieving his clothing. Laslow made himself move. 

"I do expect you at my side tomorrow," Xander said as he started dressing. Somewhere in there the teaseed oil had been put away. Only when he'd finished-- Laslow was still a little dazed and contemplating his buttons-- did he settle his crown back into place with all the weight that came with it. 

"Of course, Lord Xander," Laslow replied. He smiled his best grin at Lord Xander and then, once he'd gotten everything in place, reached to smooth the blankets on Lord Xander's bed. 

There. 

"If you have anything else for me...?"


End file.
